Cat and Mouse
by Kawaii-Nekochan88
Summary: The gundam boys find a new pilot joining their ranks. A new threat is revealed, a past once kept hidden comes out and the truth behind Gundam Pilot No.6 comes to light.


Author's Note:  
Dia duit! This is my first ever fic and was originally written in Aug 04'. However, since then I've decided to put my fic on hold until I finish it. So now I suppose the question is why did I upload it now? I need some beta-readers - but good ones (that is, readers with some sense of the English language) I'm pretty crap at the whole action scene writing angle in particular, so I'd love a beta-reader who could help me out in that respect. I'd also like to know if the whole concept of a sixth pilot isn't so cliché that people run a mile when they hear about it. ... >>

If people find this (consider it a teaser, though actually it's the prologue) interesting please let me know, and again, all you beta-readers out there, drop me a line.

Kawaii-nekochan

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, Gundam Wing or any of its characters, etc. etc. Except for my original characters and storylines... Those are mine! Bwahahaaawawa....!!! (Prances around)

* * *

:::Prologue::: 

"Papa...?"

A little girl of about six years old stared wide-eyed in horror as she saw her only living family shot dead. It took all her strength to keep from crying out and instead sobbed silently in her hiding place until the last of the gun's echoes slowly faded away. She would be safe as long as they didn't hear her. That's what her father had said before placing her carefully in what she always thought was some kind of small jail. The truth, she would realise in years to come, was that it was actually an air-vent leading into her basement to prevent it from becoming damp in the wet season. It was impossible to see to the naked eye as it was built just above ground level, and well hidden by the garden hedge that grew both close and thick around it. Wrapping her arms around herself she curled up into a tiny ball and prayed with all her might that that wasn't really him she saw. That it was, in fact, one of the other villagers. Yes, she felt sorry for that person, and his hypothetical family, but her Papa was her family too. She needed him... he had to have gotten away. Fled into the forest that surrounded her humble peace-loving village and was now on his way to get her. When he found her and took her in his arms she would give him big hug, wrap her arms around his neck and tell him she was so scared; then she would give him a hard poke in the ribs and demand to know why he stuffed her in this little box. He would smile then laugh and say how sorry he was but that he just wanted to make sure "The Chasers" wouldn't find her this time and that they could go now and ... and ... and round up the rest of the troops!!  
She blinked several times and tried to analyze that again. Did she say that ?

"You heard me! Now move, move, MOVE!"  
"Yessir!!"

Shifting her head slightly towards the left she made out two soldiers. One was tall and bald, wearing what she recognised as the Chasers uniform. It consisted of a long tailcoat in a blood red colour, buttoned at the front and adorned with numerous shiny medals that glinted and gleamed in the rising sun's light. Underneath his coat was a dazzling white shirt that looked perfectly pressed and clean. He wore long crimson slacks and two ebony boots completed his sinister appearance. The man, who seemed huge in size compared to his comrade, held himself proudly and in the young girl's opinion, menacingly. The other younger man had brownish blond hair kept back in an untidy ponytail with several messy strands falling about his face. He was jogging hastily towards the village entrance with a large brown bag bouncing up and down on his shoulder; looking dangerously close to spilling it's contents. He was dressed like the other ones in moss green. Looking though the hedge and past the General's well polished shoes the girl tried to remember where her Papa had been standing earlier. It wasn't hard to find. The General's uniform wasn't the only thing that was blood red.

* * *

"Pay attention!"

With an audible groan, a boy named Celcius Mendax raised his head slowly from it's place on the desk, turned to face the 'good professor' and gave him the most sickly sweet smile he could muster. In return, the elderly man whom Celcius, aka Cel, had come to call Magus narrowed his eyes and began his sentence again.

"If you want to live I strongly suggest you listen to me now, boy! These pilots are deadly assassins and if you screw up they won't hesitate to shoot you point-blank. That's assuming you use your brains and get within point-blank range at all..." he sneered.

Brushing the wild mahogany red hair out of his eyes with his fingers, Cel let out a sigh.

"I have plenty of time to do this, y'know... It's not like I'm going off tomorrow…"

Magus raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, fine I have my own mission tomorrow but you know what I mean!"

Inside however, Cel knew that Magus was right. If he wanted to complete his mission he needed to get his story sorted now. He sat up straight in his chair and forced himself to listen.  
It had been like this for years now. Every morning at five o'clock Cel would begin intensive training and not finish until nine o'clock that same evening. He had been educated in hand to hand combat, explosives, Gundam piloting, tactics, weaponry and every other skill a Gundam pilot would be expected to know. At nine, he (usually) received a total of half an hour to rest, eat and refresh himself. At precisely half-nine he then had to appear here in this stuffy little classroom ready to learn how to approach the five pilots and not get himself killed. It was this part of his training that Cel hated the most. When working during the day, Cel was able to move around and be active in his "studies", but when he came here to the same little room that was devoid of anything expect an overhead light, two desks (opposite and barely an inch from each other) and a pair of chairs - it was Hell. Every movement Cel made was under Magus' watchful eyes and it made him feel uncomfortable. Often Cel wished there was a window somewhere in the suffocating room; but that was as likely as Magus suggesting painting the grayed walls a happy yellow colour.

Nearly three hours later Magus had finished his 'lesson', as he called them and dismissed Cel. Mentally exhausted, the young trainee chose to sit silently at his desk and watch Magus carefully store the Gundam Files away. He tried to remember when he first met Magus. Must of been when he was about... eight? No, that wasn't it. Seven... or six. That sounded more likely. In the following seven years since then, Magus aged badly. In some part of him, Cel knew Magus couldn't live for much longer. Hopefully until the end of the mission, certainly, but after that... Cel shrugged inwardly. Didn't matter if he died then. Mission complete meant both of them would obsolete …  
At one point, Magus was a powerful being - a straight-backed, raven haired man with steely eyes. He not only radiated power but enough charm to sway any female he wished. Still, time as always, took its toll and changed him into a bent old man with wiry silver hair and sagging skin. His eyes still held that icy glare, but behind a pair of thick black glasses now and any charm he once possessed went with his sense of fashion. His usual attire was an ancient dirty-white lab coat and grey trousers. Today was indeed - no different.

"I said you were dismissed, boy," he barked. "Now hurry up a prepare for your mission tomorrow. You better realise how important his one is to the big picture. You sc-"

"-I screw up- big bad. Yeah I got it...!"

Without any further delay Cel kicked his chair aside and took his mission briefing to his dorm for further study.  
Magus couldn't help but smile as the boy slammed the door shut behind him.

'This one's perfect', he thought to himself.

* * *

Staring menacingly at the blank monitor screen in front of her, a girl in her mid-twenties started right back. This girl had a heart shaped face, ivory coloured skin and silvery-blue eyes. She had short blonde hair held in place by an assortment of hair clips and was also currently frowning.

'Dammit!' She thought pounding her fist on her desk, 'Why did the power have to cut out now? Of all times!?'

But then suddenly it hit her. For a moment, she froze and began to panic but she remembered that it wasn't her that she had to fear for. Regaining her composure she dropped to her knees beside her computer tower and worked as fast as she could; the lights had gone out and she could barely see.

"Come on, COME ON!" She whispered frantically.

Her hands were shaking as she felt around the back of the old PC but she knew she couldn't afford to waste time. She had maybe what, two, three minutes? Eventually she found it, the catch to slide open one of the computer tower's sides. Working as quickly as she could in the semi-darkness she hastily ripped the hard-drive out of the circuit board and replaced the side, praying that "they" wouldn't notice the messy re-assemblence.

'Ok genius, now what?'

Messaging her temples with her free hand she tried to think of a place where she could leave it and where they couldn't find it... "Where, dammit.... whe-..." she stopped; there was a perfect place to leave it.

Jumping to her feet she ran across the hardwood floor to her bookshelf across the room; her heels clacking loudly against the smooth polished surface. Within moments she had hidden the hard drive and all its valuable information in a place only one person could ever think to find it. Sighing loudly in relief, she paced back to her computer and sat down heavily in her grey office chair. Glancing around her surroundings she tried to make out the different pieces of furniture that made up her workspace. Had the lights been working she would see a bright blue coloured room, the walls of which were covered in different paintings she had collected from her travels - and, of course, her bookshelf. Of all her paintings, there was one in particular that she loved. She was in Japan at the time and was browsing through the local marketplace. It was there that she discovered the painting "Sakura no Neko". She wasn't sure if that was the right title and her Japanese was very ropey but she got the point - it was a painting of "The Cat of the Cherry blossom". That very painting had later led her to discover her greatest treasure and she was eternally grateful to the unknown artist that created it.

Looking though the darkness as best she could, she wished wistfully that she could see it once more - but the veil that had covered the room showed nothing more than shadows. Taking a pencil in hand she had only just finished her last thoughts on the notepad she kept beside her mouse when the door to her office slammed open behind her. She uttered a soft "oh!" and tried her best to act surprised. She hoped it wouldn't hurt too much... but also she wondered what her little one would look like when older. This thought made her quite sad. A cold laugh caught her attention and she forced herself to stand and look. In her doorway stood a large silhouette; she couldn't see the persons face, it was too dark for that, but she no less knew what they were here for.

"Hello Victoria."

That voice sent chills down her spine. 'So that's what death sounds like.'

"You may be wondering why I'm here... ." said the same icy-toned voice, "So let me assure you - it won't matter soon."

"You arrogant bastard,' she thought bitterly. 'I suppose I have to play along, don't I?'  
"...Who are you?"

In return to her question, she only received another cruel laugh. Eventually the harsh bark-like laughter faded away and instead she was sure she heard the safety of a gun go 'click'. Closing her eyes the young woman began to pray with all her heart.

'.... Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name...' She felt a small tear trickle down the side of her cheek and cursed mentally at herself for being so scared.

...'Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven...'

"Sorry Victoria, but no time to waste now."

'...give us this day our daily bread... and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us... and...'

Slowly the figure in the doorway raised the gun.

'...lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil...'

BANG.

'...Amen.'

* * *

End Prologue. 


End file.
